Weeks had passed since their time at the lake, and Leawyn and Xavier found themselves spending more time apart by chance. Tyronian had been sent on a mission to the Siraces tribe, while Xavier was away on some mysterious business he didn’t feel the need to disclose to Leawyn.
Something they had fought about, which had left her in a miserable mood for days. Namoriee––bless her––noticed this and had suggested that they go on a ride together.
Desperate to go out, she had agreed. Leawyn had missed being able to just ride for pleasure, the last few months had been so desperate, so quick. They rode for a purpose, for survival. She missed the days where she felt free, with the wind in her hair and the trust of her mare as they explored life together.
Namoriee was on a buckskin mare, who easily kept pace with them as they charged forward. Leawyn looked over at her, shooting her a matching smile before she steered Deydrey to the left, Namoriee and her horse following. Gradually, they slowed their pace until they both were walking leisurely side by side. They stopped atop the cliff in the woods that had a birds-eye view of their village.
They sat in companionable silence for a bit, until Leawyn sighed.
“Out with it, Namoriee.”
She caught Namoriee looking at her from the corner of her eye for awhile now, as if she wanted to say something, but didn’t.
Namoriee blushed, looking sheepish. “Sorry.”
“Well?” she looked at her expectantly. “What’s on your mind?”
Her friend hesitated, worrying her bottom lip. She waited, knowing that her friend took a while to gather her thoughts and gain confidence to speak her mind. It might not seem like it, but Namoriee had changed and matured so much in the small amount of time Leawyn had known her.
When she first met her, she was skittish, and struggled with her speech and was afraid of her own shadow. But underneath, she had a heart worth thousands of the best stallions, and fiercely loyal. Leawyn knew that her life would have been much worse in the Izayges if it wasn’t for her.
“Are you h-h-happy, lady chief?”
Leawyn was surprised by that question. “Yes, Namoriee. Why do you ask?”
“You seem different.”
“How?” she asked, trying to curve her defensiveness.
“You smile but it d-d-doesn’t reach your eyes. You l-l-laugh, but it doesn’t sound joyful. It sounds s-s-strained. You just…” Namoriee trailed off, looking down at her hands.
The horses they were on were grazing, and Leawyn had to gently urge Deydrey back when she started to stray for a fresher patch of grass.
“Are you happy?”
Leawyn contemplated that question. Was she happy? At times, she could believe she was. But there were times when the past haunted her. When the memories that were stomped down by adrenaline and survival started to surface, crawling to the forefront of her mind like a corpse rising from the dead, forcefully fighting to escape it’s grave.
Memories that she fought against and hid from.
It was a battle that she fought daily, and she was losing.
But she couldn’t admit that. To anyone...even herself.
“I’m happy,” she lied. “You shouldn’t worry. I just haven’t been feeling good.”
Namoriee seemed relieved with her answer, and it made her guilt taste like the worst poison.
“That’s normal,” Namoriee smiled. “The baby will no doubt control everything about you in the coming days. I’m so excited for you. The Goddess has blessed us indeed in our time of needing some joy.”
“Yes,” Leawyn smiled, though it was forced. She looked away from her friend’s trusting eyes and toward the horizon that was glowing with the promise of sunset.
“Yes, she did.”
When they got back and had taken care of their horses it was around supper, so they started to trek the path to the dining hut. They were halfway there when they spotted two forms, one of which was huddled and hugging their knees. They looked at each other and slowed, realizing that it was Castic and Garnette.
“Garnette? What’s the matter?” Leawyn asked in concern once they were within range. Castic looked up at her, an angry scowl on his face and a storm in his eyes that was surprising.
“I found her like this. She won’t tell me what’s wrong.”
Leawyn looked at her, frowning in concern at the sight of her tears. Garnette was young, but she was always amazed at how strong she was. She very rarely cried. Something terrible must have happened. She crouched next to Castic, who stood to make room for her. His arms folded across his chest, and he looked at his friend with both distress and anger––though she knew it wasn’t directed at Garnette.
Leawyn smiled softly at Garnette, smoothing her hair away so that she could better see her face.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Gar.”
Garnette sniffled, lifting her head from her knees just a bit. “Nothing.”
It was barely noticeable, but Leawyn saw her eyes shoot to Castic before looking back down.
“Castic,” Leawyn said, tilting her head to look at him. “Do you think you could give us a moment? Maybe go fetch Garnette a wet rag so that she may wash her face?”
Castic’s frown deepened. It was clear that he didn’t want to leave.
“Please?”
He hesitated, but at Leawyn’s look, his shoulders slumped.
“Yeah, sure,” he grumbled dejectedly. He glanced at Garnette one more time before he went and did as she asked at a run. Leawyn turned back to Garnette.
“Now will you tell me what has you so upset?”
“It’s stupid,” Garnette sniffed, wiping her tears and nose with the back of her hand.
Leawyn squeezed her kneecaps. “I don’t think anything that is able to make you cry will be stupid, Garnette.”
Garnette’s lip wobbled. “I saw Castic kissing a girl.”
She heard Namoriee suck in a breath, but she ignored her. She tilted Garnette’s chin up so that she met her eyes. Her heart squeezing at the sight of her red-rimmed eyes.
“When?” she asked softly.
“Tonight. I was looking for him. Ever since the Warrior Choosing we haven’t got to play as much. But he promised me we would today.” Garnette’s eyes filled with tears anew. “But when he didn’t show, I lookded for him. That’s when I…” she cut off, crying.
“Oh, sweet girl,” Leawyn sighed, moving so that she was sitting on the floor with Garnette and held her close.
“He lefted me, Lady Chief. He doesn’t want to hang out with me anymore!”
“Don’t be silly,” Leawyn chastised. “Castic loves you. He’d never not want to hang out with you.”
“Then why did he kiss her instead of playing with me?” Garnette hiccupped around her crying.
“Garnette, what you’re feeling is jealousy,” Leawyn explained patiently.
“J-jealousy?”
“Yes,” Leawyn replied, wiping one of her tears away. “When you saw Castic kissing that girl, how did it make you feel?”
“Angry and sad. I didn’t like it.”
Leawyn tried not to smile, but it was nearly impossible. Garnette was just so cute. As was Castic’s friendship with her. She had seen firsthand how much Castic adored and protected Garnette, who didn’t understand that most boys his age wouldn’t want to hang out with someone her age. But Castic did so willingly.
It was adorable.
She was afraid that something like this would happen. Leawyn knew it was only a matter of time that Castic would start to take an interest in girls, and Garnette was bound to get her feelings hurt.
“That’s jealousy,” Leawyn explained gently. “You’re used to having Castic to yourself, and now that that is changing, it’s upsetting you. But Garnette, as painful as it may be, you’re going to have to get used to this. Castic is becoming a man and wanting to...kiss”––she winced––“girls is part of him doing so. You need to understand that.”
“I don’t like it! I don’t want him to do that! Why did he have to be a stupid warrior anyways? Why couldn’t he just be my friend?”
“Shh,” Leawyn soothed when Garnette started to get really worked up. She waited for her to stop crying before she continued. “Garnette, you need to be happy for Castic. You’re his friend, are you not? Don’t you want to see him happy?”
Garnette nodded solemnly. “Castic is my bestest friend.”
“And you are his. Garnette, the whole village knows how much you mean to him. He loves you, and he would always want you to be happy. To know that the reason you were crying was because of him would make him very sad. You’ll hurt his feelings.”
Garnette frowned. She fiddled with a string on her dress. “I don’t want to make him sad.”
“It’s okay to be jealous,” Leawyn told her gently. “It’s how you deal with your jealousy that will define you. Hurting Castic just because he hurt you––something he would never purposely do––isn’t right. It’s not a fair way to treat someone who loves you.”
“He’s coming back,” Namoriee informed them quietly. They both looked up, seeing Castic heading their way. She glanced down to Garnette. “Do you think you’ll be okay?”
Garnette nodded, wiping her face again. Her expression was determined. “Yeah. I won’t make him feel bad anymore, even if I do.”
“Good.” Leawyn untangled herself from Garnette, standing up just as Castic came within distance to them. She stepped back to Namoriee, watching as Castic crouched in front of Garnette.
“Here,” Castic panted, thrusting a damp rag to her. She reached for it, giving him a small smile. “Thanks.”
Instead of letting her use it, Castic gently began to wipe the tear tracks away from her cheeks.
“You okay now?”
Garnette nodded her head shyly. “I’m sorry Castic. I never meant to ruin your night.”
Castic frowned at her, seeming angry.
“Hey,” he said firmly, stopping her from looking down by catching her chin. He stared into her eyes, fiercely serious. “You will never ruin my day, nor my night. You got it?”
Garnette grinned. “Got it.”
“Good,” Castic said, tapping her nose. “You hungry?”
She nodded, and Castic helped her stand up, turning his back to her and bending his knees. He tilted his head. “C’mon.”
Garnette giggled, hopping on. He hefted her up when he stood, settling her more comfortably on his back before he made his way up the path, giving her a piggyback ride. Garnette waved at them, then laughed when Castic started to run.
Leawyn and Namoriee shared a look, smiling because they both knew.
Even though Castic and Garnette were young...their love story was going to be the most beautiful.
It was well past dark when Leawyn finally crawled into her bed. After the situation with Garnette, Namoriee and she had continued to the dining hut where they had spent a good amount of time. She had watched with great amusement as Namoriee drank more mead than she could handle. The walk to Namoriee’s hut was filled with many giggles as she escorted her friend home, leaving as soon as she was safely in bed.
She looked over to the empty side of the bed, missing the heat of her husband’s body that always seemed to be warm. Without him here, the bed felt cold and lonely.
She looked around her hut, noticing the subtle differences compared to when she first came to live here. The giant firepit in the middle of the room was unlit, and in the right corner there was a desk that held most of Xavier’s things. Two giant chests stood next to each other, holding her and Xavier’s clothes separately. Pegs inside of the hut’s wall held the plethora of Xavier’s weapons, and her bow. She had picked wild flowers and had them scattered around to mask the otherwise manly scent that seemed to be in their hut, and all the other countless knick knacks that she had collect over the course of their marriage.
At the foot of their bed, a slab of wood was slowly taking form in the shape of a crib that Xavier was building. He’s been meticulous of every detail as he delicately shaped the wood into a horse. She knew that when he was finished, it would be beautiful. He said that their baby will be strong, and proud. Just like a stallion.
She smiled softly, resting her hand on her stomach. He was convinced that their baby will be a boy, though she was partial to a girl.
She looked over to the empty spot next to her. Sighing heavily, she reached over and blew out the sole candle that she had lit, dousing the room in darkness. She rolled over, turning away from the sight of an empty bedside by closing her eyes. Hoping that sleep will come quickly and without troubles.
It didn’t.
Xavier returned home before Tyronian, which wasn’t surprising to him in the least. Tyronian often visited their sister-tribe, the Siraces, sometimes spending weeks at a time there. He knew that when he assigned Tyronian and a handful of men to deliver the prisoners to Siraces there was a chance that he would stay awhile. Especially since his dear cousin was trying to avoid a certain girl within their tribe.
He smirked. Popular to his dear wife and cousin’s belief, Xavier wasn’t as blind to the gossip of his tribe than they thought. He was chief. It was his duty to know every single thing that was happening within his tribe. That included his cousin’s infatuation with his wife’s handmaiden.
Something must have happened throughout the war, because he caught Tyronian’s longing glances he’d send Namoriee every time she’s within his eyesight. For some reason or the other, he decided to give the girl space. And because of this, his cousin missed the equally longing looks that Namoriee would send Tyronian when she believed no one was looking.
It was a headache he chose to be ignorant to. But he knew that one day his cousin will come to him to ask permission to claim her as bride–despite the tribulations his decision would create for Tyronian by doing so. But it was his choice, and he knew that he will stand behind his cousin to whichever he decides.
Leawyn is rubbing off on me, he thought wryly.
But his amusement slowly died the closer he got to his hut. His was bone-tired. His muscles ached in multiple paces from his long ride, to and from the lost village. He had dispensed men and slaves to the oceanfront village as soon as he was able to start on the remodel. It is his hope that in a few winters, it will be an functioning second Izayges tribe that Leawyn and him will retire to once their child was old enough to take his place as chief.
But even with his exhaustion, he was dreading to coming home to what undoubtedly will be another long night of Leawyn’s screaming. There was once a time that Xavier couldn’t wait for the sun to set, so that he and his wife would be alone. It was his favorite part of his day, to be able to love his wife throughout the night. To watch her writhe and scream while he pleasured her to the point of exhaustion. But lately, she was screaming and writhing for a completely different reason.
Her night-terrors were happening more and more frequently, and each morning that she woke, they didn’t talk about them. Because she doesn’t remember…or she’s choosing to ignore them.
He felt helpless, and he hated that feeling. He had given her a chance to tell him what was wrong at the lake, but she had lied to him. It still made him angry. But, instead of punishing her, and demanding her to tell him her deepest, darkest thoughts that he felt belonged to him, he had let her evade his question. It had gone against every fiber of his being. But he was trying to be better. He had made a promise to himself once he had woken up from his deathbed to be a better husband to the woman who had saved him in more ways than one.
He wanted to be the man he knew she wanted him to be, but he was failing.
Even now, knowing that he would undoubtedly walk in to his wife having a nightmare, he wanted her. To slide into her body. To watch his palm make her skin blemish when he spanked her. To bruise her with his hands as he held her down and himself in as deep and as far as he body will allow him to. He wanted to own her.
Her thoughts.
Her body.
Her nightmares.
It was disturbing, how obsessed he was with Leawyn. He wanted to consume every part of her—mind, body, and soul.
It would scare him, if he had any humanity. But he didn’t. He didn’t even think Leawyn knew how dark he was. How empty.
Until her.
She was the fire that illuminated his surroundings. But if she continued to live this way, he knew that the fire will turn to embers, and eventually burn out.
And if that happened…the would dark devour him. He’d be lost.
He couldn’t let that happen.